I remember that Christmas:
for one short, quiet hour
we were alone in your room.
We held each other
and said not much at all.
And while I was falling in love
you were thinking about him.

For months I shared you:
he had you on weekends
and I had you on week nights.
And though you eventually left us,
clutching only memories,
my heart shattered,
I don’t regret looking like your fool.


2 thoughts on “Untitled

  1. Anne says:

    Wow. I really enjoyed reading this.

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